


All the Stars in Texas

by ZsadistCortel



Series: Texan Stars Series [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Outlaws, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Character Death, Domestic Violence, F/M, M/M, Song Inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 05:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3238151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZsadistCortel/pseuds/ZsadistCortel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern Western AU!  Criminal Alfred F. Jones saves Arthur Kirkland from his violent boyfriend while taking a short vacation from his life of crime.  Events spiral out of control and Arthur and Alfred partner up and are soon on the run.  #1 in the Texan Stars Series.</p>
<p>This is the teaser for a fic I am currently writing!  Once I finally finish the fic I will update this posting with the full story!  This is the first fic in an AU series I call my "Texan Stars Series."</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Stars in Texas

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Ludo song of the same name.

It wasn't that Alfred really enjoyed breaking the law.....well okay, maybe he did. But even criminals can be heroes once in a while. With his golden blond hair and azure blue eyes, he certainly looked the part of a hero. Alfred F. Jones, American criminal, strolled into the small town of Olen Ridge on a hot day in July. He had just narrowly escaped being caught during his last bank job and was prepared to take some time off to relax. This sleepy little town out in west Texas seemed a perfect place to start, even if he only planned to stay a few days. It had a diverse population, as people from many cultures took up residence there. Rather liberal place for a Texan backwater, but he wasn't complaining. And best of all, it had a McDonald's! That was Alfred's first stop and the beginning of this story.

*Alfred's POV*

Alfred watched the two men from his table nearby. They had entered the restaurant shortly after he had and they immediately caught his attention, but in different ways. One was fairly nice to look at with longish blond hair and blue eyes. He sounded foreign, his speech containing a nauseating accent that irked Alfred. Alfred guessed that he was French. His clothes were gaudy and bright. His companion wore a rather dull gray suit. He also had an accent, but his was different. It was lilting and beautiful. British. The British man was also beautiful...even more so than his flawless accent. Ash blond hair caught the light from every window and emerald green eyes shimmered. His skin was pale, but not unattractively so, and he moved with an ethereal grace. He also appeared to be shorter than both his companion and Alfred. Alfred was entranced. He observed the pair as surreptitiously as he could throughout their meals. 

The Frenchman stood up part way through the meal. The two foreign men had appeared to be arguing, and their conflict seemed to have finally come to a head. The Frenchman raised his arm and hit the smaller male harshly across the face. The green eyed man was knocked off his chair by the force of the blow, crashing to the floor. He stared up at his assaulter in wide eyed shock. The rest of the restaurant went completely silent, eyes locked on the two.

Alfred was up in an instant, crossing the short distance between himself and the fallen man in seconds. The American knelt down next to the Brit, offering his hand in assistance. “Are you all right?” The ash blond looked up at him, unshed tears in his eyes, and shook his head sadly. An obnoxious accent filled the silence.

“He is fine. He deserved it and he knows it.” The Frenchman sneered down at his victim. A woman with long brown hair came charging towards him, frying pan clutched in one hand.

“Francis! How dare you hit Arthur! And then to say a thing like that! You get out before I hit you with this!” The woman held her pan up threateningly. “I don't care if you are Gilbert's best friend! You get out this instant! And don't even think about coming back!” 

“Elizabeta, mon cher, you don't mean that,” cooed the Frenchman Alfred now knew to be Francis. Alfred, who had been helping Arthur to his feet, glared at Francis. 'What an ass,' Alfred's mind hissed.

“I believe the lady told you to leave,” Venom laced Alfred's tone as he stared Francis down. Blue fire snapped behind his eyes, adding to his already intimidating appearance. Alfred was at least 4 inches taller than Francis and his muscular frame left no question as to who was the stronger of the two. Arthur, sensing the tension begin to rise to dangerous levels, quickly spoke up.

“I'll be all right Eliza. I don't want anymore trouble for anyone. Don't bother trying to reason with that frog. I'm leaving now anyway.” With that Arthur scooted around Elizabeta and made for the exit. Alfred watched him for a moment before coming to a decision.

“Will you be all right, ma'am?” Alfred narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the Frenchman, not moving his gaze even as he spoke to her.

“I'll be just fine. Thank you for your concern!” Elizabeta smiled sweetly up at him before hardening her features and turning back to Francis. Alfred nodded, backing away from Francis and heading toward the exit Arthur had just gone out. 'He couldn't have gone too far!' Alfred hoped as he scanned the nearly empty street outside. Suddenly he spotted an mop of gleaming ash blond hair. And it was making its way toward him! Alfred's heart sped up as Arthur came to a stop about a yard away from him. They stood for a few minutes, staring at each other and unsure of what to say.

*Arthur's POV*

Arthur Kirkland's day was not going very well at all. When he woke up that day, the sun was shining. Normally this would be a good thing, but as it meant Arthur had overslept and was now late to work it was just the right beginning to a disastrous day.

 

Arthur worked at his family's bakery. This was sort of ironic because he was an awful cook and couldn't even make salad without burning it. Luckily, he wasn't in charge of baking anything. Rather, he was in charge of waiting on customers, making deliveries, and working at the cash register where his only contact with the food was handing it to someone. Even he agreed this was for the best. Arthur's parents had died years before, but he had four brothers that lived in Olen as well. His older brothers Scott (30), Wallice (28), and Irin (27) were in charge. They hated him with a passion. He suspected it was because he had been their mother's baby for almost 10 years before the youngest, Peter, had been born and their mother had coddled him. Even after Peter's birth, Mrs. Kirkland has always been especially fond of Arthur as he was the one most like her in looks and personality.

Mrs. Kirkland had died 12 years ago of cancer. Mr. Kirkland then turned to the bottle and proceeded to drink himself into oblivion. One day about 6 years ago, he had fallen into the pond behind the local bar while drunk and drowned. Scott and Wallice were old enough to look after a child if either had a mind to but they had no interest in raising their youngest brother, so Peter went to live with his godparents, Berwald and his husband Tino. They had been Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland's best friends. Peter was now 13 years old and happy as could be with the couple. Arthur was now 23 and his life seemed to be going nowhere. 

Another thing about Arthur was that he was in a long-term relationship with one Francis Bonnefoy. It was the only relationship he'd even been in and it had so far lasted 3 years. Arthur sometimes wondered if he would even work up the courage to leave the Frenchman. Francis could be very violent when he was upset. More often than not, Arthur sported bruises underneath his clothing from Francis's fits of temper. Though Francis was always sure to hit only what was covered by Arthur's usual clothing and to never be violent in front of the other people in Olen.

Sometimes Arthur thought about leaving Francis, but he had nowhere else to go really. His brothers wouldn't take him in and he didn't have enough money to get his own place. There was also the gnawing fear that Francis would never allow him to leave. That more than anything else had stopped Arthur from working up the courage to leave his boyfriend. But as the days passed, the idea of leaving and never returning seemed to gain appeal. Arthur began to surreptitiously hoard some of his money and hide the things he loved most at the bakery. Now he just needed an excuse to get himself to finally go through with it. 

Arthur hurriedly dressed, trying to be as quiet as possible so he didn't wake up Francis. His bruised body protested with every movement, but Arthur ignored it. He had become accustomed to the feeling. Francis was never one to be gentle. Taking one final cautionary glance at his still sleeping partner, he grabbed his car keys and slipped out of the house.

 

TBC . . .


End file.
